Death Diaries
by Demon Emperor Lucieus
Summary: A phenomenon nobody knows how to explain starts up at Iceland's home, spreading quickly throughout the whole world. But little did people know that the beautiful phenomenon was actually something much darker. What has happened to all the countries when the communications fall apart?
1. Chapter 1 : Day of Chaos

Nobody knew what name to give the blue flames after that one day they first appeared at Iceland's home.

At one moment he was simply fixing his puffin's bow tie, and at the next moment he realized that something was off. His hands were trembling slightly while he was walking to the window which was looking at one of the volcanoes on his land, Grímsvötn. Strangely enough, he stared at it for long time before looking around.

The thing that made him that nervous was the smell of something burning. He was one of the few countries that still remembered the acid smell of an erupting volcano. Not seeing any smoke or activity from Grímsvötn - the one volcano he was particularly scared of as it had erupted just few years ago out of nowhere, made him nervous and scared.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. _Surely, I can scent the burning and the smell of fire,_ he though to himself before opening his eyes. _But why is there no smoke anywhere around?_

That's when he noticed the tiny blue flame right next to his right shoe. His purple eyes widened with surprise as he knelled down to look at it.

"So you are the cause for the smell of burning..." Iceland whispered, relaxing. The country took a deep breath and blew at the flame.

But it didn't go out. The blue fire didn't even twitch at Iceland's blow.

He tried again. And again. And again. But nothing happened.

Before he could actually step on the flame, the phone in his home rang loudly, almost making Iceland fall on his back from surprise. He sighed and went to pick the phone up.

"Yes, who is-"

"Ice!" someone yelled in the speaker of the phone. The familiar loud voice of Denmark met his quiet speaking with a loud crack from the speaker.

Iceland's eyes narrowed as he moved the speaker slightly away from his ear and spoke with an irritated and annoyed voice to his friend.

"If you don't stop yelling, I won't feel very well and I'll probably be half deaf," he hissed before sighing. "What do you want, Den?"

Denmark took a deep breath before saying with a somber, serious voice that was unusual for the usually mischievous country.

"Ice, is anything strange going on in your country? If something is happening, tell me immediately. Now."

Iceland sat down on his chair and sighed before looking at his fingers. He was surprised that Denmark was serious as it happened very rarely - and that meant that something really important was going on (probably).

"Ummm... Nothing except a random blue flame in my garde-"

"NORWAY!" Denmark suddenly yelled loudly again, and luckily this time it was not in the direction of the phone.

Some rustling papers were heard from the speaker before another voice spoke.

"Ice... Don't touch those flames. Not with any part of your body. Never. Just don't do it." Norway's words were filled with worry and something darker Iceland couldn't recognize.

"Nor..." he murmured worriedly, a question lingering in the silence that followed after that.

 _What was going on?_

Few hours later, the blue flames had appeared all around the world. The television was buzzing with people speaking only about them, scientists trying to discover what they were and random chats filled with gossiping about the phenomenon.

Fifteen nations had been calling Iceland for hours, trying to get as much information as possible to him as realizations hit him that he was the first place the blue fire appeared in.

The day had been horrible for the small island country. He was tired and exhausted after all the phone calls he received. After the sixty seventh he almost yelled at America for bothering him for the twentieth time and then unplugged the phone, thus ending the series of endless calls.

Sighing with annoyance, he laid on his bed and closed his eyes, wanting to go to sleep and then wake up, realizing that the whole day was simply a weird dream.

But sadly it wasn't meant for it to be a such thing. Thirty seconds later a loud explosion from his garden made his house tremble and clank from the sound wave. Iceland jumped from his bed, his puffin flying around him frantically. He ran to his front door and swung it open only to freeze dead in place from the thing he saw.

Right on the place where the tiny blue flame was now stood a huge burned up patch of ground, the stench of acid smoke in the air all around him. But it wasn't simply the crater of the explosion that terrified him. No, it was the thing laying in the middle of it.

A blackened, burned up body was laying on the ground, everything from the torso down to it's legs missing, with only smoking black blood and pieces of shattered bones tossed around it. The head was still on it's place, and whatever had been left from it was some smoldering hair and burned skin. The mouth was open and mist was slowly coming out of it.

Iceland simply stared at the body of the man for minutes, his brain unable to understand what was going on or what had happened.

With a slow and uncertain movement he stumbled backwards, but tripped and fell on his butt. And simply continued to stare at the body.

At the same time, in the distance, another loud explosion was heard, then a second one, then a third one. Screams arose up in the bright blue sky.

And Iceland was still simply staring at the man.

Within the following few minutes, the world turned upside down.

* * *

 _Time : 05:27 PM GMT, Date : 19th of August 2024, Friday._

 _Dear diary, today is the day everything turned upside down._


	2. Chapter 2 : Malice

Chapter Two : Malice

Before all means of communication were cut off four hours after the explosions had started all around the globe, the first information Iceland recieved was that one sixth of all populations on earth - as far as the terrified people had counted - was dead.

Two hours after the start, a massive earthquake shook the whole earth. Its power was terrifying, more than anything Iceland had ever experienced in his life. He could see buildings falling apart from it even though the center of the earthquake was estimated to be somewhere around Italy and Greece. All he was sure about was that now, somewhere there, something horrible was happening.

Half an hour later another tremor shook the earth. The cruel, yet so familliar smell of smoke and acid slowly got it's way into the country's house, forcing him out of the state of fear and shock he was in.

Iceland ran outside of his home and looked up at the volcano. To his terror, a tall tower of dark grey, almost black smoke was rising into the sky slowly. It brought with itself the dread promise of the one thing Iceland was most scared of.

His hands stopped trembling as they fell lifeless next to his body. He couldn't move even though his brain was screaming at his body to run far away. He simply stood there, dead frozen at the sight of the smoke tower.

It seemed like ages to him before he realized that from the peek of Grímsvötn a curtain of black and grey mist was slowly, as if carefully and gently trying it's way while floating down, coming from there.

The television got cut off.

Icy calmness flooded him, clearing his mind out of all worries. Indeed, in the back of his mind, he was afraid, but something in that mist, so familliar and yet so alien, always made him calm like an iceberg.

He stormed into his home, knowing that less than two hours were left before the mist reached the first houses, and with all the panic around he was absolutely sure that people would notice when it was too late.

In the main room of his home, on the wall near the table, was located one red button under a plastic panel, with "Volcano Emergency" written on it with bright yellow letters. Iceland went over to it and with all his power hit the panel with his fist, shattering the plastic apart.

As soon as the panel was broken, he pushed the button. Around his home and the whole town, sirens were started. The people were startled when the sirens were turned on, but then few of them noticed the black smoke. Like a shockwave everyone suddenly stood up one after another. Many people ran into their cars with the surviving members of their families and drove away from the volcano, towards the port.

Apparantly, the port in Hof was too small for that many people and boats. Less than half of them were able to get on ships with destination Bergen, Norway. Iceland himself was one of those people.

He curled up in a corner of the bed in the room on the boat he got (he was the only one with a room and that was only because he showed the boat's captain an ID card that showed that he was a person of high importance whole life must be kept at all costs). The small square leather suitcase he brought and his phone were on the bed, right next to him, in case Norway or someone else of the Nordics called.

The teenager looking country hugged his knees tighly, digging the nails of his hands in the leather pants and his skin, as well. His white-silver hair was messy and some hairs were looking like the Italy brother's curls. His face was hidden as his head was resting on his knees. His hands clenched slightly as a quiet noise came from him.

He was trembling. Iceland's hands were holding onto his legs, trying to force him to stop shivering that much and get a hold of himself. His eyes were tightly shut while the ship was slowly travelling over to Norway. He remembered in the back of his head that this was only the third time he had ever been like this.

He felt so weak, so powerless against the chaotic thing that was slowly getting it's way into his home, his land and his country. He felt scared about the other countries as well.

 _What was going on in Norway? What about Sweden and Finland? Will Denmark be okay?_

At the last question he smirked slightly as the obvious answer came to him. _Denmark might will be too drunk with the quantities of beer he drinks to ever notice, so probably he'll be alright._

Suddenly Iceland stopped trembling and froze as his eyes shot open at a sudden thought.

 _What about Sealand?_

 _Sealand is still too young and innocent to be alright after all that was happening around the globe (and is still happening). Maybe if he is with England or Sweden he'll be alright, but if he is all alone on his port... What could have been going on out there?_

For the rest of the trip all that Iceland could think of were flashing images of Sealand dead or alive in the worst possible way, or probably currently drowning in the cold sea... Iceland could't help thinking that Nor or Finland were either dead or something even worse.

He was unable to check the television for news as he didn't have a screen, and his phone was one those phones that are waterproof, but without the option for 4G that America had suggested for Iceland to try out. It was not a good phone, by America's standarts at least.

So he was curled up in his bed in the middle of the sea between his island and Norway, with no connection to the outside world, and with terrible endings for his friends and brother's lives flashing in his mind, making him wanting to cry.

He managed to refrain himself from crying by the time the ship trip ended. Barely seconds after the ship had docked in Bergen Iceland jumped out of his room and ran towards the city. His purple eyes were looking around the seemingly normal city. But that was before he noticed the marks of the explosions.

Almost every building and street he ran throught heading in direction of his brother's house, had the burned marks of the explosions the blue flame caused by touch. The horrible,faint scent of burned up flesh was linging in the air as Iceland slightly choked while running.

The corpses were still there. Many of them had been slightly moved from the places they exploded, but others were still smoking, showing that they were still fresh. Many missed hands or legs, some didn't have half the bodies, and some were turned into a literal human explosion. There was dried, burned up blood everywhere.

Iceland tried not to look at them, but was terrified by the power of those tiny, cute looking blue flames. Suddenly a noise came from under his shoe. The country froze before slowly stepping backwards.

What he had stepped on was a child's toy, one of those fluffy bears. It was a bit burned up and an ear was missing, but otherwise it was in a good condition. Then Iceland looked infront of him. His eyes filled with tears he couldn't let flow.

A tiny girl was laying on the pavement, the marks of dragging and explosion further behind her. Her two hands were missing, leaving only the torn up sleeves and shoulders behind. Her long, golden curly hair was burned on the edges and ashes were in it, but it was still possible to see that the girl was a beautiful child.

Her eyes were what scared Iceland the most. They were a deep, but still light blue color. The feeling that they gave off send chills on Iceland's back.

They seemed still happy, even in death.

 _The girl must have been really happy before the deadly explosion got her,_ Icelans thought. Then his eyes widened as another thought went through his mind.

 _It could've been Sealand instead of this child._

Slowly he went around the corpse before speeding up again towards the end of the town. The bodies started becoming fewer and fewer, as less people had lived in this area before. In fifteen minutes or so, when he finally stopped running.

In front of him, a large stone building was standing. It didn't seem to have taken a lot of damage, maybe few larger cracks from the earthquake. Panting, Iceland slowly walked over to the door and pushed it open.

With a loud creek, unusuall for that kind of oak doors, it opened slowly.

The air was a bit damp, a thing Iceland couldn't explain to himself. But they were near the sea, so it wasn't that unusual for the air in the homes to be a bit damp.

Iceland slowly stepped inside, looking around the large house his brother had, in comparison with the small villa Iceland owned. Nevertheless, he knew every single corner of this building as if he was the one to build it. He went over to the switch for the lights and pressed it.

Nothing happened. But he expected that much. First of all, he had noticed that the part of Bergen he ran through while heading for this house, was pretty much abandoned. Not a single light had been turned on, not a single person - at least alive - was to be seen. He had assumed that first : the electricity had been cut off, and second : every Norwegian in the city had ran to the safer parts of the country.

Of course, he had his doubts that Nor had also ran away to either Denmark or Sweden, but he still needed to check for any clues in case of something.

He recalled from the memory of the call he recieved from Denmark that it sounded as if the two countries were in the library. He took a deep breath and walked towards the end of the house, where his brother's library was located.

He pushed its door open.

Everything inside of it was a complete mess. In contrast with the rest of the house, in the library it was visible that books had been thrown or dropped on the ground, papers had been tossed around and even some books had torn from pages.

Iceland slowly walked over to the nearest of the books. He kneeled down and left the small suitcase near him before lifting the small, clothed in leather book.

The old, yellowish pages slightly crumbled under Iceland's fingers as he went throught them. After half a minute of doing so he looked at the label of the book.

 _"The Øresund Bridge"_

The boy suddenly smirked as he knew exactly where Norway was heading to now.

 _Denmark._

 _Of course._

Standing up, he left the book down from where he lifted it and took his suitcase again. Then he looked at the library and smiled gently at all the books.

"Norway will miss you all..." he murmured before leaving the home.

In his mind he felt reassured about Norway being alive. With his brother, they always had a secret to their game of hide'n'seek when Iceland was young. Always the first book Iceland sees while searching for his hiding brother, had a clue to where to find him. Either a piece of grass on the cover, meaning that Norwat was in the garden, or a picture of food to guide Iceland to the kitchen.

With a slight smile he shook his head. All those memories made him nostalgic about the old days, and right now remembering them all wasn't a good thing to do. He had a more important job now.

To find where Norway was, and to find safety as well.

While walking through Bergen, this time he took his time to look arround the streets. He noticed several buildings in ruins, and many others on their way to crumble apart. Iceland noted to himself that it might have been due to the earthquake.

While walking to the center of the town he noticed many cars wrecked or with missing parts, possibly due to the flames. Closer to the center he got, more cars he saw. He continued looking around until he saw a good looking car.

He walked over to it slowly before looking inside. To his relief, this car was clean from any dead people or blue flames. He pulled the handle. Locked. Obviously.

With a sigh, he took out a screwdriver and after few minutes the door was unlocked. With anotherdeep sigh he got inside the car, which to his surprise, as he noticed just as he got in, was a Range Rover, of the old ones, 2014 series.

 _Let's see if I actually remember how to drive those..._

After a couple of attempts he finally got the old car going and soon he was driving on the highway towards Oslo, where he planned to spend the night before heading to the Swedish border and Malmö, from where he could get on the bridge and from there to Copenhagen, where he was sure that he would find his brother or at least Denmark (who he was sure to find easily).

While he was driving at full speed as there were only two cars he encountered on the highway. He was surprised that there were so little people in Norway, but the other hand he remembered how many died in the explosions. He also assumed that many of the survivors were already in Oslo or in the mountains, hoping for survival.

Then he remembered that there was a radio in the car. He reached out and turned it on.

"-rgen, as far as we know, is completely abandoned. Not a single living soul, except a young boy the age of seventeen, as far our helicopter camera person could tell, has been seen in the last hour. Our information goes as far as to say that he arrived from the ship from Iceland that came in the port in Bergen two hours ago," a female voice loomed from the speakers speaking in Norwegian.

Iceland stared at the radio with huge confused eyes. _How didn't he hear the helicopter if they had seen him in Bergen?!_

For ten more minutes he continued listening to the news before he heard something that made him grab the wheel hard enough for the bones on his hands to be visible.

"As far as we know, over half the population in the whole country is dead. The survivors have fled for the mountain bunkers or Sweden and Denma-"

The radio got cut off.

The rest of the trip was spend in dreadful silence.

Late at night Iceland arrived in Oslo. To his surprise, the lights on the streets of this huge town were still working. But the earthquake and the blue flames hadn't spared this town either. Every third building was either in ruins or about to fall on top of the car as Iceland passed by them. As far as the dim lights allowed him to tell, there were even more dead than in Bergen. It looked like a ghost town to him.

He stopped at a gas station. After ten minutes of figuring out what he had to do, he finally got the Range Rover filled with petrol. Then he went into the shop. With one look around he managed to determine that it was raided long before he got near it. But then he saw a can under a table. With an alarmed look around him, he walked to it and lifted it.

An unopened _Monster_ can.

Iceland stared at it for two seconds before taking it and walking outside of the building and went into his car. With the _Monster_ beside him, he now knew what he would be able to drive all night, but he wasn't planing to do so. Instead, he drove out of Oslo and hid the car in some bushes before locking it from the inside.

The teenager curled up on the seat and soon drifted into an uneasy sleep.

His dreams were filled with fear and terror and the horrifying images of his friends dead.

The next morning he woke up earlier than expected, covered in swear from his nightmares. He stared at his shaking hands with teary eyes, his vision blurry. He couldn't help thinking about them, even though he refrained from doing so while driving the day before.

He wasn't able to calm down. Iceland simply stared at his hands, trying to get his mind into that icy calmness that flooded him every time the volcanoes at his home errupted.

That's when the phone rang.

 _Beep. Beep._

He looked at the cellphone in dismay, not believing his ears.

 _Beep. Beep._

With a brisk movement of his hand he grabbed the phone and accepted the call by pressing the button with his trembling fingers.

"Hello? Iceland? Anyone there?" a kinda childish voice spoke in the speakers.

He took a deep breath before answering the call.

"Y-yes... It's me, Iceland..."

The man on the other side sighed with relief and then spoke again.

"Thank god you are alright! Is everything alright? The television and the radio are cut off and I... No, _we_ have no idea what's going on anymore!"

"Um... I... I have no idea what's alright and what's not anymore... Is... Is everything alright on your side?" Iceland asked, starting to calm down as he had recognized the voice as Finland's.

"Well, me and Sweden are currently driving over to Berlin and w-"

"How the hell did you get in Germany?!" Iceland gasped with surprise as that was something he didn't expect at all.

"We were here in first place, Icie. Me and Sweden came here to have a conference with Germany three days ago, remember?"

The boy calmed down as actually remembered that what Finny was saying is actually the bare truth. He almost slapped himself as he realized how stupid he was to assume that they were somewhere in their own lands.

"Can you please tell me... What happened down there?"

Complete silence followed for a moment before Finland took a deep breath.

"The earthquake... As far as I know, it rip apart Sicily... Half of Greece is gone as well... The south of Germany is in almost complete ruins, but he himself is alright... I don't know what happened to Romano and Feliciano... I sincerely hope they are alive..."

 _An earthquake that strong?_ Iceland was truly glad that it didn't happen where he was living.

"Anything else?"

"No, I don't think so. Where are you heading to now?"

"Copenhagen. I hope that I can meet there with Denmark and Norway," he replied. "What about you?"

Some unrecognizable noises came from the speaker as Finland replied.

"What?" the boy tried to make Finland repeat what he had said, but few seconds late the line broke apart. Iceland slowly took the phone away from his ear and looked as the connection was lost.

 _Guess the phones don't work anymore as well..._ He thought to himself as he put it away next to the _Monster_ can. After that he took the can and opened it, the drink slightly hissing when it was opened. Even though he didn't really like that kind of drinks he didn't mind it now.

He spend the rest of the morning thinking about what Finland had said and drinking the rest of the energy drink. After he had finished, he turned the car on and got on the highway again. Speeding up, he drove away from Oslo and towards Malmö. He was calm once again.

The rest of the day was spend on the road, with only one stop for him to find the last packet of chips left in an abandoned grocery shop in the middle of the highway. After eating the chips sitting on the ground next to the car, looking at the bright blue sky, unfitting for the cituation the world was in, he cleaned his hands and hopped up onto the seat before going again on the road. After five more hours of complete silence, he finally crossed the border between Norway and Sweeden. One hour later, he was just driving in Malmö.

But what he saw wasn't what he expected at all. The city was stil inhabited. It seemed that it wasn't as badly hit by the fire nor the earthquake, for some reason. Many people walking on the streets or grieving the ones that they had lost, glanced at the jeep and the young boy in it as it passed by them, heading for the bridge. Driving around Malmö, he noticed that the damage in the town was less than expected, as there were only few buildings that were in ruins, and the explosion marks were less than in Bergen or Oslo.

Even so, he was surprised when he got at the beginning of the bridge.

The whole beach was covered in bodies. The black, burned up and rotten flesh of all the human beings was piled up together on the sand, releasing unbearable stench, so strong that Iceland had to turn on the self conditioning of the car, in attempt to keep the smell outside.

No wonder the city looked so clean. The survivors had simply taken the bodies outside of it, and near the sea as well, probably to make the flesh rot faster.

Iceland almost choked in the thought that one of the hundreds men, women and children out there could've been Sealand or Norway. With all his willpower, he slowly drove away from the beach graveyard and got on the Øresund Bridge. While speeding up, he did his best to drive out the beach scenery he saw out of his mind.

With the speed he was driving at, it took him less then ten minutes to cross the middle of the bridge. Unfortunately, that's when he noticed the clouds that had gathered in the sky above.

They were all dark, deep grey, the type of clouds that foreshadowed great rain and storms. Intuitively, Iceland slowed down. Twenty seconds later, the sky opened and the fiercest of rains the teenager had experienced poured on the road.

He could barely see where he was going, but for one thing he was sure - he was still on the right way. Luckily, all the cars that he encountered were already half broken or exploded, so he didn't have any chance of harming anyone if he accidently hit a car.

Suddenly, a loud tremor shook the bridge and the car Ice was in, as well.

Another earthquake. He was sure that it was that. And he knew that he had to get away from the bridge as fast as possible. He pressed the gas pedal with full power and the jeep rushed forward on maximum speed.

But it was too late.

A gigantic wave, the size of a tsunami wave quickly neared the bridge. An instant later it hit the whole strutcture. The bridge trembled, the asphalt cracking and breaking apart, parts of it falling into the ocean. The cars on the bridge got swept away into the water. One of these cars was the Range Rover.

Iceland barely had time to react before he was in the cold, deep water. It was slowly getting its way inside the jeep through the cracked front window. He didn't have time to panic, he reminded himself as he punched the door. The water pressure didn't allow him to open it.

The jeep was sinking deeper and deeper, and the water in it was getting more. The air for Iceland to breathe was less and less.

Suddenly he realized. _What if I wait until the jeep is full of water and then I open the door? The water pressure should be at the same level when it happens..._

So he waited. After less than half a minute, he took a deep breath and sink his head under the water. His vision was blurry but he could still see where the window of the car was located at. He quickly changed his strategy.

He punched the front window glass with all his power.

A crack appeared. Then another as he punched again. And then, it broke apart when Iceland kicked it with his leg.

He started feeling dizzy due to the lack of air. But he had to hold on. He slowly pushed himself out of the cabin of the car. Then looked above him.

The light was barely visible, he must have sunk really deep. He let some of the air in his lungs out before kicking with legs as he swum after the bubbles it formed. After endless, as it seemed to him, strokes with his hands and kicks with his legs, he weakly noticed that he was literally one meter before the surface of the water. He kicked one last time before reaching out with his hand, breaking the surface of the water. A second later his head hit the surface as well.

He barely had time to choke out all the water in his lungs before the second wave hit him.

It was a secondary wave, so it didn't have as much power as the first one, but Iceland hadn't managed to breathe at all before he found himself again underwater, being spinned and tossed around by the water.

His consciousness started to fade away. He tried to stay awake and reach for the surface, but his body was too exhausted and cold.

A second later he felt Grímsvötn erupt on his island.

Everything went black.

* * *

 _Time : 07:46 PM GTM +2, Date : 22nd of August, Monday._

 _Dear diary, today is the day I drowned. The world is still full of malice against us._

* * *

 ** _Emperor : First of all, thank you for reading this far. Second of all, I am sorry for changing the name of the story. I didn't like the original one so I decided to change it to something more fitting. Last of all, I had a friend draw the cover of the fanfiction. He apologizes for not managing to make Iceland look more like Iceland, but that's all he could do. I hope you like the new cover._**

 ** _I hope you like the continuation of the story as I continue writing on and on. Arigato!_**


	3. Chapter 3 : Loss

Chapter Three : Loss

 _This is strange._

 _It feels cold... But at the same time warm... I don't get it._

 _I open my eyes slowly only to see Denmark rushing enthusiastically towards me with a huge box behind him._

 _"ICELAAAAAND!" he yelled and an instant later he is hugging me. "Happy birthdaaaaay~!"_

 _With a sigh, I ignored him completely. But him simply hugging me for ten minutes is as annoying as him yowling... Ahem, speaking to me._

 _When he realized that I was ignoring him completely, his behaviour changed as he looked at me with huge teary eyes._

 _"Icie... why are you so mean to me...?" he whimpered._

 _As if he wasn't mean to me by speaking so loudly that even Sweden on the other end of the sea could hear him._

 _After I continued ignoring him and simply didn't speak to him at all, he sniffled before snuggling to the other person in the room._

 _Norway. My "big brother"._

 _"Nor... Icie doesn't like me..." and with that behaviour of his he hugged Norway, his head laying somewhere on Nor's stomach and his hands... guess where. Right. On Nor's butt._

 _I bet Denmark kneeled down only for doing this._

 _Norway, of course, didn't appreciate that kind of behaviour. He never does... Maybe._

 _He pushed Denmark's head away from him and down, in attempt to make him let go off his butt._

 _"Let me go, moron," he uttered emotionlessly while pushing Den's head away or at least he wanted to do it. Denmark simply continued "crying" and trying to grab Nor's ass better... I mean to hold onto him._

 _The final result of this thing was that at somepoint, after fifteen minutes of strugling from both sides, even though Denmark didn't seem to mind, Den's head suddenly somehow found itself between Norway's legs._

 _I simply stared with a tired look on my face as Denmark grabbed Norway from behind the knees and lifted the other man in the air. Norway yelled something in Norwegian at him which I didn't quite understand, probably a curse for Denmark to get eaten by the trolls, as the taller man carried him out of the room while Nor was hitting his back with fists and ordering him in Norwegian to let him down and something about bedrooms and me, for some reason. Denmark, however, simply grinned and said something in Danish, which made Norway turn red. That was the first time ever I've seen my emotionless big brother blush or show somekind of emotion except irritation._

 _And to confuse me even more, Denmark freaking winked at me just before he exited the room with Norway on his back._

 _I stared at the closed door after Denmark left completely dazzled. But then, I never really understood Danish so I didn't know what they were talking about._

 _With a sigh, I looked over to the huge box Denmark had brought in with him. My birthday present..._

 _After I let out another long, quiet sigh, I stood up from my chair and walked over to it. With swift moves of my fingers I unwrapped the paper, which, to add more awkward tone to the situation, was colored like my brother's flag. Was this present for me after all or not?!_

 _Inside of it resided a beautiful brown leather jacket, a bit like a military one. When I touched it it felt as if I was touching silk, not leather._

 _It was beautiful. I lifted it up from the box wondering in the back of my head how expensive that had been for Denmark to buy. I smiled slightly as I took off my own and tried on the new one. It was a perfect fit._

 _I had worn that jacket ever since._

 _Ever since my twelfth birthday._

 _Everything turned black as the scenery changed slowly._

 _I was sitting in a chair in front of Norway, a desk with all kinds of pens and papers on it. It was in Nor's cabinet in his home._

 _"And so, why did you ask for this private conversation, brother?" Norway asked me, seemingly bored and emotionless._

 _I crossed my arms while letting out a sigh. After that I glared at Norway with hard, icy eyes._

 _"I want to be independent," I said with a solemn voice. I was a bit older at the time._

 _He continued looking at me for sometime before murmuring a single word._

 _"Why?"_

 _"I want to finally live alone. I do not want to have you care for me, or Finny teach me how to shoot anymore, or Denmark... Well... Denmark to annoy me that much... Or Sweden to stare at me while I am trying to take a bath."_

 _At the last thing I kinda shivered, since that guy's stare always scared me a bit... Especially in the bathroom._

 _"Oh. Fine then. Go. I will arrange the documents," Norway uttered with a quiet, emotionless voice before looking down at the desk and reaching out to get a pen._

 _I watched him for sometime while he was writing before standing up and walking away from the room._

 _The scenery changed again._

 _I was at a conference between us, the Nordics. It was one of those loud, noisy ones when Denmark always... Well, he always brought beer with him. I seriously don't get this guy. I simply bring Mr. Puffin with me... and that's it. With a sigh I looked at the others._

 _Denmark, of course, was sitting on the table with his usual grin and, of course, he had a bottle of beer with him. Sweden was being serious, as always, and watched what Finny was doing - talking to Norway. Then I looked at Norway as he replied with those short, three or four worded sentences of his._

 _I looked down at my hands with kinda sad and tired look in my eyes. I felt lonely, as if I was the only one not part of them. After all, I was the youngest one... Except Sealand when he is with us. But now..._

 _I closed my eyes and tried to ignore their voices as they spoke with an informal tone on this "formal" meeting. Denmark was announcing something about a new kind of beer they developed, Norway was being silent, Finny - for some reason - suddenly shot the wall (which made me and like everyone else except Sve jump in the air afraid,) after that he started apologizing for all kinds of stuff, and Sve was silent as well._

 _What a meeting! Actually, could someone even call this a meeting?! I thought to myself as I struggled not to yell at them or something, or leave dramatically, as I did sometimes already._

 _Suddenly a hand was placed on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked at the person._

 _Norway._

 _After a brief moment of simply looking at me, he spoke quietly._

 _"Ice, you are not left out. We will always be your family. Me, Den, Finny and Sve. Sealand is also a part of our family. We will always be together."_

 _The others looked at me, smiling encouragingly, as if to strengthen big brother's words. After few seconds of me simply looking at them, I huffed and smiled back shyly._

 _My face must have looked very awkward as Denmark and Finny (especially Denmark) started laughing. Sweden and Norway simply looked at me, but in their eyes I could see warmth._

 _Family, huh..._

 _The darkness came again as the scene changed._

 _I was at Norway's birthday party in Asker. I have no idea why, but it was Denmark's idea to do it there. Probably to be away from Bergen and Oslo's busy daily life and the loud crowd there._

 _While Denmark was trying to make Sweden drunk and Norway and Finland were staring at a bonzai tree for reasons, known only to them, I put the small box near the gigantic present of Den's and the three other boxes (one of them was from Sealand). I looked at my brother, as he didn't seem to mind what was going on at his bightday party, and didn't seem to mind it happening either. I wondered how he did that before closing my eyes, taking a deep breath to clear my mind and sitting in a chair to boredly watch them all do crazy stuff._

 _I didn't want to interrupt them or have fun with someone, I was just being me. Mr. Puffin came over to me, jumped to my lap and laid there, getting comfortable._

 _I kinda didn't mind him today, since for some reason he was quieter than usual, and that was actually a good thing. I couldn't even stand being near him once when he tried once to sing a song about Norway and me._

 _I felt left out, as if I didn't belong here. It wasn't something that I wasn't used to anyways, since I am usually alone on my small island._

 _Half an hour later I stood up and leaving Mr. Puffin behind on the chair, I walked outside of the house into the garden._

 _I stepped out of the light circle around the house before slowly and quietly walking into the oak forest._

 _It was dark and even more quiet than it was in the garden. I could feel the stillness in the forest as it got stronger further I walked. It reminded me of everlasting and ancient places, while the old times were still alive._

 _Not long after me simply looking around the forest and going deeper within it I found himself near a small, not very tall, with the lenght of a human, pile of rocks. I looked around. Further in the forest, there was another one. And a third one. As far as I could see in the darkness of the night, I managed to count seven of them._

 _Then I realized what the piles were._

 _Graves._

 _I studied them before realizing that the row of seven graves wasn't the only one. A bit to the left, there was a second row with seven more. And there was a third one, with only one visible. But in difference with the others, that one had a tombstone. A bit curious, I wandered towards it slowly before stopping in front of it._

 _On the old, cracked tombstone there was written with almost invisible letters by the current moment three rows of solid text._

 _To my surprise, it was written in Old Norse._

 _Since I had never seriously studied Old Norse, I could only read a little over a half of the text._

 _"To Raine ...-aile,_

 _I will ... ...-get the day you gave me the ... ._

 _I shall ... lose it ... give it to ... ... ._

 _With love, N-... ... ."_

 _I read it few more times before closing my eyes thinking to myself._

 _"The man must have loved the girl before she died... What actually happened here?" I asked myself and kneeled down, leaning on a tree right next to Raine's grave. I closed my eyes._

 _Seemingly a minute later a hand was placed on my shoulder, waking me up immediately. I looked around in the dark only to notice the familliar blonde hair and dark blue eyes._

 _My brother, Norway, was looking at me with slightly tired eyes. I stood up and stretched a bit before realizing that I felt less sleepy now._

 _"Did I fall asleep, Nor?" I asked as I cleaned my pants._

 _"Yes," the other man answered with quiet, almost like a whisper voice. "None of the others are here," he murmured when he noticed me looking around._

 _"Oh," I sighed before leaning on the tree again._

 _Norway looked at me for sometime before walking away... only to stop and kneel down at Raine's grave. I looked at him slightly curious about what Nor was about to do._

 _Thats when I noticed the golden petals of a beautiful flower I didn't know about near Nor's hand._

 _Flowers. Norway had brought flowers._

 _My eyes slightly widened with surprise while I was watching Norway whisper things in Old Norse I couldn't understand with a gentle, quiet voice I had never heard him speak with. After a minute or so Nor put the three beautiful golden flowers on the grave and closed his eyes._

 _He stood like that without moving for such long time that I got worried and went and kneeled down next to my brother._

 _"Nor..." I whispered very quietly, almost unhearable and was about to say something else when I noticed something strange about my older brother._

 _Norway was trembling. Very slightly, but it was visible that he did._

 _I couldn't help but slowly, gently and kindly hug Nor's shoulders. The older man looked at me before resting his head on my shoulder and closing his eyes. We stood like this for a long time, as I was waiting patiently for Nor to calm down._

 _It was a long silence before I decided that it was safe to ask a question._

 _"Nor... What happened here?"_

 _He didn't say anything at first, so I decided not to ask anything on the topic anymore, but then he answered me._

 _"This is from my viking era... Raine was a young girl from the mountains, living up there with her whole family. Once, in a battle with enemies, I was wounded badly and driven all the way up to the mountains. Alone and bleeding, I knew that I didn't have much time left before I died. It was cold. At the edge of my power, I finally managed to get to the three housed village... I couldn't get to the front door of the first house, I was too frozen and I had lost much blood... I fell in the snow and laid there, unable to move. But then Raine found me. She saved my life..." Norway then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I suspected that he had gone into his memories._

 _I waited patiently for him to continue speaking, and at the same time gently hugged him closer._

 _"She helped me go into her home... After a month or two after she had saved me, I was already healthy and could go back into battle, to save my lands, but at the same time, I didn't want to leave her alone. She was a lovely lady, with long golden hair and happy purple eyes... Her skin was as solf as silk... And even though she was beautiful, she wasn't afraid to do work hard even if she came out covered in dirt... After all, I ended up staying in her house for a whole year..." He sighed and became silent for few seconds. "But only after few months of being around her, I surprisingly realized that I had a crush on her..."_

 _"Eh?!" I gasped and looked at my older brother._

 _"Yes... I didn't believe it at first as well, but that was the truth. She liked me as well, but I knew that we couldn't be together due to me being a nation, and her a normal human... But when I left a year after I first found myself there, I decided that I didn't want to leave her and her family alone in the mountains, so I traveled with them all the way to here. Together we built a small home and whenever I had the chance, I always came here to see Raine and the rest..."_

 _I listened to his story, trying to remember every little detail of it carefully. I was surprised that Norway actually said something more than the usual short sentences._

 _"But then, two years later, when I came back... All I found was the ruins of the home and the bodies of the dead family... The only survivor of the murder was Raine, but she was wounded heavily... I knew that there was no way to save her, but I still tried... I watched over her for hours while her strenght was fading away... At the brink of death she took my hand weakly and placed something in it... Her last words were "I love you..."... I looked in my hand then... There was the golden cross I have on my hair right now... It was hers originally..." He took a deep breath after the last sentence before whispering the last few words. "It was the day of my birthday when she died..."_

 _I didn't quite knew how he felt back then, but I did know that the loss of the one he loved had broken him into pieces. I guessed that her death was also the reason Norway became such an emotionless person. I silently nodded and hugged him closer, in attempt to comfort my brother._

 _This became a small, yet one of the most important secrets between us._

 _Blackness came again and then sudden pain flooded me as I opened my eyes only to see blurry gray and black colors._

Iceland suddenly twitched as his eyes shot open and he almost sat up in the bed. His breathing was uneven and he was shaking. His skin felt sweaty and hot when he tried to take a deep breath of air. Iceland blinked few times, his vision clearing a bit as he tried to find out where he was.

A cold hand was placed on his forehead suddenly and he almost jumped from shock. The hand gently pushed him back into laying position before placing a wet towel on his haid.

"Hush, go to sleep..." a quiet female voice whispered to him. It sounded a bit raspy and broken, but it was gentle and caring. It had a bit of an accent as well.

Ice tried to sit up again but the hand didn't let him. He finally gave up and simply laid in the bed. But even though he gave up on standing up, he didn't give up on asking questions.

"Where am-" he was interrupted when the woman lifted his head from behind slowly and gently put a bottle to his dry, slightly cracked lips. When the water went into his mouth he realized how thirsty he actually was. In few seconds he had drank the whole bottle of water. It felt amazing. For the first time he actually realized how tasty water was.

He wanted more but the woman shook her head with a sigh.

"I cannot give you more... I have limited water per day... Tomorrow I will give you more," she murmured.

Iceland tried to argue but at the same time he understood how the woman felt. She laid his head back on the pillow before putting her hands in her lap.

Ice was silent for few minutes, which felt like eternity.

"Where... where am I?" he asked finally, coughing at the end of the sentence.

She closed her eyes before answering with another sigh.

"In a house in the remains of León."

How, in the name of mr. Puffin, did I get in the middle of Spain?! Iceland asked himself and searched through his memory.

Then the woman spoke again as if she had read his thoughts.

"Two men found you washed achore on the beach a week ago... They were really surprised when they noticed that you were still alive and breathing. They expected that you had been dead, as the condition of your clothes said for itself that you had been in the sea for a long time... They brought you to me since I was the only one who knew how to use medicine..."

Iceland almost choked on his tongue and stared at her with huge eyes.

That's when the memories of the bridge and everything else flooded his mind, making him almost scream in shock. It was August as long as he remembered when the Øresund Bridge fell and he was tossed into the ocean.

For how long exactly have I been drifting in the waters so I ended up in Spain?!

He stared at his hands in complete shock as he was unable to comprehend what had happened to him. He tried to calculate for how long he was drifting in the waters. It should have been a long period of time since he was in León now... Or at least what was left from it.

A man's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Leyla, is everything alright?"

Iceland looked up to see a old man, with white hair and long white beard, who was speaking with Leyla in Spanish. The beard and the hair were dirty and almost grey, but it looked as if the person cared for himself. His eyes were a warm green, the color of the leaves just between summer and autumn. His clothes were a bit torn and dirty, but the man didn't seem to mind.

Few seconds after Ice had taken a look at the man, he looked at the teenager. His eyes showed interest and curiosity.

"Oh, so the child is finally awake?" he said with slightly joyful voice.

At the word 'child' Iceland made a noise which's closest description could've been a snort and a choke at the same time. He hated that word as he didn't want to be reffered as a child anymore by anyone.

The man only smiled gently before looking at Leyla and saying something in Spanish. After few sentences he looked at me.

"Boy, what is your name?"

Iceland almost growled at him when he heard the word 'boy'. However, the expression on his face must have been so funny that the old man almost burst into laughter and even though Iceland was a bit irritated, he couldn't help but smile slightly.

"I... I am Emil... Emil Steilsson."

"Emil... Nice to meet you. I am Anthon and this is my granddaughter Leyla. We are obviously from Spain, as you can tell."

Iceland weakly lifted his hand so he could have a handshake with Anthon. Anthon's hand was covered with bruises and scars, and it felt rough against Ice's gentle skin. He guessed that the man was a hard worker, one of the type of people that do not give up easily.

Iceland tried to sit on the bed and this time Leyla didn't stop him. His head started pulsating suddenly but he clenched his teeth together and bore with it. The pain soon faded away, leaving Ice slighty lightheaded. He blinked few times, trying to focus his vision.

Now he was able to tell where he was. The bed was inside of a half-ruined house, the walls still standing, but half of the roof gone. He was unable to see anything out of the windows due to the light, which was too bright for his tired eyes.

They stood in silence for awhile before Ice spoke again.

"Can..." he coughed to clear his throat before continueing with a quiet, strangelly still voice. "Can I go outside?"

Anthon looked at his granddaughter and it seemed as if the two had a conversation with eyes. After seemingly hard debate Layla stood up and walked over to Ice and offered him a hand.

"Only for a bit, alright? You are too weak to walk alone," she said.

Ice nodded and took her hand, using her as a pillar to stand up. After quite the struggle he gave, he finally managed to stand up on his two legs. He immediately realized that he was weaker than he thought he was. Ice leaned on Leyla's side. A second later Anthon came to his other side and helped him as well.

Slowly, step by step, Iceland managed to walk to the door. The old man pushed it open with his arm, allowing the bright light from the outside right into Ice's eyes, forcing him to half close them.

When his eyes adjusted to the bright light he opened them widely in shock as he managed to make out what was in front of him.

The whole town was literally turned into ruins. All the houses that were beautiful before had been turned into crooked, slightly tilted to the side, formless piles of burned wood and rocks. The whole town was covered in ashes as they was falling from the sky even though it didn't look like there were any clouds. But what brought the most shock to him was the water.

From a point around three hundred metres away west from the house he was in, a lake of water was visible. But when he looked further he wasn't able to see land. The water stretched further and further, and it seemed as if it was without an end.

He tried to remember where León was on the map. It seemed as if the town had been somewhere in the middle of Spain. But then, how did the water reach all the way to the town?

The answer to that question came to him quicker than he expected.

Floods.

The Atlantic Ocean had flooded Spain all the way to León.

He slightly tilted his head towards Anthon. "When... When did this happen?"

The old man slightly patted his beard before answering with a grieve tone.

"Three months ago the sea came and the water flooded the land... It hasn't changed since then."

"Wait... Three months... Then... Which month is it now?" he gulped and stared at the man, his whole body tense.

It was the woman who answered him though. At her words Iceland's body went lifeless as he fell on his knees, unable to speak or stop himself from shaking as he stared somewhere in the distance, completely lost his selfcontrol.

"December. It's December 2024."

* * *

 _Time : Evening, Date : December 2024._

 _Dear Diary, I don't know where to go anymore... Someone, help me._

 _I believe that I have lost my hope._


	4. Chapter 4 : High Price

Chapter Four : High Price

Iceland's condition slowly worsened as time passed on. Instead of recovering, he became weaker and weaker, and not long after he had recieved the news about what month it was, he was unable to move out of the bed.

Leyla was trying to do everything within her power to help him recover, but she wasn't able to stop the strange illness that slowly melted Ice away.

He had trouble breathing as every time he tried to take a breath sharp pain stung his lungs. His whole body hurt and every little movement felt as if he had thorns in his muscles. Even speaking was something extremely hard for him to do.

His life slowly faded away as weeks passed. Nobody except Anthon and Leyla was left in the ruins of León, as anyone who had survived the flood ran to higher ground, in case of another one.

It was one day in the middle of February 2025 when everything changed.

Very early in the morning, a knock was heard at the door in the half ruined house.

Both Leyla and Anthon jumped from their seats, the old man grabbing his gun, which he had found in a basement of another house nearby. He pointed it to the door the same time Leyla walked over to Iceland and took his hand, to reassure him that everything will be alright.

"Who's there?" Anthon asked loudly.

From outside was heard a quiet female voice, speaking in Norse.

"Ignid, and I bring something for a certain person in this house."

Anthon's only reaction was to remove the safety of the gun and then he was ready to shoot the door as he didn't know Norse, but then Iceland spoke quietly, for the first time in days.

"L-let... Let her in..." he murmured before looking at Anthon with eyes, full of tiredness, but at the same time energy, which the spanish family hadn't seen in Ice's eyes for a long time.

Anthon didn't want to at first, but seeing Iceland liven up slightly, he sighed and put the gun down before walking to the door and pushing it open.

A beautiful woman was standing there, her long red hair as beautiful as the sunset in the dark blue ocean. Her eyes were lime and were sharpened like an elf's and her skin was clear of any dist and dirt. Same went for her dress as it almost glowed in bright red, green and brown colors, reminding of an autumn forest.

Then she spoke in Norse again, without moving from her spot. Heard without a barrier between them, her voice sounded a bit eerie and as if it comes from far away.

"May I come in, Iceland?"

Iceland wasn't able to say it loudly, but his answer was a quiet wisper of _Ja_. A second later Ignid stepped inside and walked over to where Ice was laying. She kneeled down next to it and then bowed her head slightly to the ill country.

Anthon and Leyla looked at Ignid with careful eyes, thinking that she might be an enemy. But then Ice looked at them and within his eyes there was a plead for them to go outside and close the door, in order to leave him and Ignid alone. Of course, they didn't want to leave him, as they had become pretty attached to each other for the weeks they spend together, but they had to agree that if he and the woman wanted to have a private conversation, he and his granddaughter had to leave.

An instant after the door was closed, Ignid lifted her head and spoke quietly, her eyes fixed on Iceland.

"I have come to find you and to bring you two things."

The boy twitched and sighed, speaking to her with difficulty in Norse as his throat hurt.

"Ignid... What do... do you have for me...?"

At that question she lifted her hands and took his right hand gently between hers. Iceland felt something like a slightly heavy packet being placed in his hand. His fingers twitched as he tried to grab it, but the pain in his muscles was too sharp and he hissed because of it.

Her only reaction was to smile slightly before leaning over to his face. He followed her head with tired eyes before feeling a very gentle, slight and warm kiss on his forehead.

He looked at her turn around and heading for the door around the same time he started feeling a bit dizzy and sleepy. Just before his eyes closed and darkness came to his mind he managed to catch a glimpse of her back.

It looked as if it was covered with the bark of the trees in the forest.

Some minutes later, as it seemed to Ice, he was woken up by a gentle shake of his shoulders. He mumbled something in Icelandic about Norway to let him sleep before twitching away from the shaking. His eyes shot open a second later out of the warm sleep as the sharp pain of the movement got to his mind.

After the pain dissolved away he slowly looked over at Leyla, who was the one waking him up.

"Emil, are you alright? When we saw you sleeping... Oh god..." she was mumbling frantically, her eyes showing worry and fear for the teenager.

 _Oh... That's right... I wasn't able to sleep for days... I always woke up when I moved,_ Iceland thought for himself before remembering Ignid.

"Eh... Leyla... What happened... with the girl..." he asked slowly, feeling the words numb and lifeless, even though he had to admit that after the sleep he felt slightly better.

"That girl? Well... we waited outside for hours for her to leave... But even though sunset came, the door didn't open... So we went in... She wasn't there, you were the only person in the room," she answered his quiestion before closing her eyes thinking. "I believe that we could've heard her footsteps if she left through a window but... I don't know."

Iceland thought about it for a bit but shrugged it off his mind before his eyes moved down to the package in his hand. It was a simple yellowish paper envelope, with nothing written on its front. It felt heavy for a reason Iceland couldn't explain to himself.

He looked over to Leyla. "Can... can you... open it for me?" came from his cracked lips like a raspy, tired whisper.

The spanish girl nodded before gently taking the envelope and slowly, careful not to tear the paper apart, she opened it. A second later Leyla took out a small folded letter and a wooden box the size of the envelope. It was the reazon the envelope was heavy, Iceland said to himself.

The girl placed the box aside and opened the letter. It seemed as if the piece was torn from a bigger piece of paper, and its ends were slightly covered with ashes.

Her eyes ran through whatever was written on it a few times, but then she shrugged before sighing.

"I'm sorry... I can't read what's written on it... Maybe grandpa will know..."

Ignoring the viscious pain he lifted his hands weakly and reached out for the letter. The girl looked at him before nodding and placing the paper into his slightly shaking hands. Iceland moved the paper to a point where he could read it from.

His eyes ran throught the two lines written on it, widening slightly. Then another time. And a third time.

 _"Koma til London._

 _Verið varkár."_

His mind automatically recognized the caligraphic handwriting he had seen so many times in his life. His hands fell on his chest as he started shaking slightly.

"Open... Open the box..." he almost ordered Leyla, strange determination in his eyes and voice before reaching his hand towards her.

She nodded and took the wooden box in her hands, opening it quietly with a clacking sound. Her eyes showed confusion as she lifted something from it and placed it into Iceland's open palm, who slowly lifted his hand to look at the thing.

"I don't know what this means..." she said and was about to continue her thought when Ice gasped.

In his hand was laying a beautiful crest, made out of white gold, carefully polished and obviously taken care of. It was one that Iceland knew so well that he could recognize it from miles away. He traced it with his fingers slowly, feeling all the tiny scratches and marks from old battles. It seemed too real to be actually real.

Norway. It was Norway's hairpin.

Ice's vision started becoming blurry as he felt his eyes getting waterly. His breath came out shaking as a tear slided down his cheek. Then another one.

He was crying. He was actually crying for the first time in his long (yet short) life.

Slowly, as if not to break the hairpin, he curled up around his hands, his back at Leyla. In his right hand he held the crest, and in the other the piece of paper.

He thought about Norway and the way he delivered the note to him and Ignid's back. Thinking about the old norse stories his brother used to scare him with, he remembered one of them in which a woman, a spirit of the forest, used to deceive men. Ignid matched the perfect description of that woman. The front was a beautiful girl, and the back looked like a tree.

Now it all made sence to him. Norway had send the note with the help of a scogsrá. That's why she didn't use the door to leave as she was a spiritual being.

He closed his eyes relaxing slightly. Nor was still alive and was waiting for him in London, judging by what was written in the letter.

He was now able to sleep normally, without nightmares or feeling the pain in his muscles. Peace had come to his mind like a painkiller as he had finally obtained some news about his brother.

As if a miracle had happened after that day the note arrived, Icaland's illness faded away in merely a week. In a day he was able to sleep again, in three days the 'thorns' in his body seemed to disappear one after another and in six days he was able to move painlessly. On the morning of the seventh day he asked Anthon and Leyla to help him walk.

Even though his legs were trembling from the pressure on them they hadn't felt in weeks, Ice had enough power to walk around the room twice (with the help from the other two, of course). After few steps into the third time he tried to go around the room, his legs gave up and he fell on his knees, panting heavily.

Leyla looked at him with worry in her eyes.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" she murmured quietly before kneeling down and looking at him.

This week Ice had finally started to eat again as he refused before, concerned more about them than him. He had been sure that he would die soon, so he wanted them to eat as food was scarse now. All that Anthon found a day ago after another 'expedition' around what was left from León were three cans of baked beans and a can of vegetable soup. Everything the trio ate for each day was a a single shared can of whatever the man had found.

Ice looked at Leyla and nodded.

"I have to get going. If he is there, I must find him as quickly as possible," he said before leaning on Leyla as she helped him stand up again.

"He? Him?" she glanced at him, some confusion written on her expression.

Ice slightly shook his head. "I will explain later," was all he said before making a step forward.

It was three days full of excersize like that until Ice was finally able to walk on his own, even if the steps were slightly unstable. Despite the fact that he wanted to go to London immediately, Iceland decided for himself that he would get going after few more days.

He had grown used to the family, after all. Ice felt a connection to them just like he felt an attachement to his people, but this one wasn't that strong. It was just like the bond he felt with Norway, one of deep friendship (and brotherhood, which Ice kinda ignored completely).

But even though he decided to leave them in a day or two later, he was still getting ready. At a point of him getting his brown jacket clean of all the dist and sweat it had on it (same went for his trousers, boots and shirt) he noticed that the clothes felt a bit too loose on him.

Ice looked at his hands. With some surprise he noticed that they were a bit bony. He was used to his hands being thin, but that thin made him worry slightly. He stood up from the pool of now dirty water before putting his jacket and shirt on some warm rocks for them to dry quicker, next to his now cleaner white boots. Then he walked to the pool, waited for the water to calm down until there were only three or four waves per minute and looked at his mirrored image.

With shock he realized that he almost looked like a living skeleton.

Ice could count the ribs on his chest if he wanted. No wonder his clothes were big on him. He had lost at least twenty kilograms of mass for all these weeks he was unable to move. When he kneeled down to look at his face, he was no longer surprised by what he saw.

His white hair was touching his shoulders and some stray hairs were even longer. His cheeks had disappeared, leaving the hard outline of the skull visible. His chin was sharp now, instead of the round one he had before. His eyes had slightly sunk in their sockets, creating the illusion of his purple eyes being much darker now.

He wondered if Norway would actually recognize him now if he saw him. Probably not, he smiled slightly at his mirrored image before realizing how awful he looked like with a smile in the condition he was in.

Standing up, he took his almost dry clothes now before walking up to the house. With one last look around he opened the door and stepped in.

Two days later he was ready ro go.

It took him a day and a half to dry out an old, small leather backpack he found in the almost completely flooded basement of a small villa, which now was partly in the water. He had gotten in it two bottles with fresh bottled water (well, not very fresh, but it was still drinkable) and three cans of food. He had found everything himself, saying that taking the food the spanish family barely managed to live by with would be against his principles.

Everything that was left to do was spend their last dinner together.

He closed the door of the house the moment the sun hid behind the ocean and looked at Leyla and Anthon.

"I... I must get going tomorrow morning..." he said in somewhat a sad tone.

He had to admit that he'd miss them alot. They felt like a very close family to him, just like the rest of the Nordics did.

At that thought his expression darkened for an instant before he got control over his emotions and walked over to sit on the ground around the little fire the trio had set up.

Ice felt cold and it felt kinda strange for him as he was used to the cold, but he knew the reason for that after looking at his mirrored image. Ice had lost a lot of weight, after all.

He nodded a thanks to Anthon when he took the small tin can from the old man's hands. With some surprise Iceland noticed that Anthon wasn't wearing that slightly worn off, but still warm coat that was the best to use in late autumn. He guessed that around the fire even the man felt way too warm.

After eating his share of the vegetables in the can, he handed it over to Leyla. He slightly raised his eyebrow when he saw that the usual white scard Leyla wore lately was also taken off. Without giving it too much of a thought, Iceland shook the strange suspicion arising in his head away before watching her eat her share.

They didn't talk much the rest of the dinner, which consisted of eating another can with food and sharing some water. But even though they didn't talk, the warmth between the trio was sensible. To a stranger it could've looked like as if Leyla, Iceland and Anthon were speaking by telepathy.

To Ice it felt like an extremely important friendship that he needed to keep safe and also one that he'd remember while he was still alive.

In any case, it was one of those things that no one could bear to lose.

In a hour or at least that's how long it felt to Ice, the trio decided to get ready to sleep before the fateful day of Iceland leaving.

Even though they tried not to show it, both Leyla and Anthon's eyes showed undeniable sadness that Ice tried to ignore as much as he could in order to not show how much his own sadness was.

After he got into the bed, he felt as if he barely had time to close his eyes before someone shook his shoulder briskly and whispered "Wake up!"

Ice's eyes shot open and he almost jumped on his feet like a soldier, but the hands pinned him back down to the bed.

"Calm down, or worse stuff will happen!" the voice hissed.

This time Iceland finally managed to recognize who the voice belonged to. It was Leyla. But why she was afraid, he couldn't explain to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by her shoving something into his hands.

"Take it and come with me!" Leyla hissed again before pulling him out of the bed and dragging him quickly to a back room he thought was useless as the roof had caved in. But then he saw the other door, leading to outside. Just as both passed under the slight moonlight, he managed to see what was in his hands.

His backpack. For some unexplainable reason it felt heavier than it was before, but in the hurry they were in he ignored the fact completely.

She pushed the door open quietly, checked the perimeter before jumping out on the stones and landing almost silently, like a cat. Ice's landing was slightly louder, but it wasn't important as Leyla got a hold of Ice's hand and then she pulled him when she started running towards something higher in the hill.

After a minute or so of silent, quick run both reached a a huge boulder. In the moonlight Ice managed to make out someone's figure just before it ran down the rock and landed next to Leyla, who didn't seem afraid.

Now, at closer distance Iceland was able to recognize Anthon's face, but the expression on it was one he had never seen on his mostly smiling, with all the wrinkles, face. It was the expression every soldier had when going in a battle.

The expression of determination to win and the fear of death, both at the same time.

But what was even more shocking for Iceland was that he was completely unable to notice any fear in Anthon's eyes. It looked to him that the man was fearless in the whole chaos that was going on.

"What i-" he tried to ask but was interrupted by the grandpa grabbing his hand.

"You shouldn't have stayed here that long!" he uttered quietly before pulling him in a direction that lead even further from the house.

The two men walked another few metres before Anthon turned around and grabbed Iceland's shoulders with his hands. The gaze he gave Ice was hard, yet soft, with touches of worry and sadness.

"Emil, can you trust me?" he murmured softly.

Ice immediately knew what to do in order to answer the easy, yet difficult question. He nodded slowly, the pace of his heart slightly slowing.

"Then promise me... Promise us that you will not get out of here until the morning comes!"

Without waiting for an answer the old man pushed Iceland into something like a tunnel behind that boulder and made him sit down in its deepest and darkest end.

Just before Anthon left him alone in the cave he turned around and looked at Iceland. Expecting the look of a soldier into Anthon's eyes, Ice was surprised when he realized what those old, wise green eyes were showing just before the man exited the cave.

There, for the first time in their whole time together, was visible great sympathy as if Anthon knew who Iceland actually was.

Following his instructions, Iceland didn't move from the spot he sat in the dark cave. It was complete silence. Suddenly a deep male voice, not Anthon's, broke the silence.

"Where is the boy?" he growled.

A second man was heard in the distance.

"The house is empty, that brat isn't hiding in there!"

There was some silence before Leyla's voice was heard.

"He is not here!" she yelled at the strangers, some shaking in her voice but overall it sounded confident.

Heavy footsteps echoed after her words before the first male voice smirked with amusement. A gasp.

"Or should I take this bitch instead of the boy?"

Some fighting was heard and an insane laugher from the second man before Anthon spoke.

"Leave us alone! Emil left and he is no longer here!"

"But I didn't see him leave... Or did you hide him somewhere?" came from the first voice.

More fighting was heard before Leyla answered them.

"He left some hours ago when it was dark! He is far away from here right now!" she hissed.

At that point Iceland could no longer stand listening to what was going on. His curiousity and protective instict took over and even though he was breaking the unspoken promise to Anthon, he slowly and quietly stood up from his place in the small cave. With almost silent steps he went to the edge of the entrance of the cave. Carefully, kneeling down, he looked outside of it.

Out there, in quite close distance indeed, were standing five people. Iceland recognized two of the figures as Leyla and Anthon. They were facing towards the rock Ice was hiding in, thus making the other three looking in the opposite direction, not seeing where the teenager was hiding. Pretty clever, if Ice had to make a point. But where they looked wasn't the real issue.

The other three men looked like complete gangsters. The leather clothes they wore reminded Iceland of a group of motor lovers. Sadly, he wasn't surprised that two of them had guns with them. The guy that was nearest to Leyla was obviously the leader, as far as the teenager could tell.

"That brat was barely a shrimp," the leader kinda laughed before coming nearer to Leyla and looking in her eyes. "He probably will last in our new world for no longer than few days!"

Ice's eyebrow twitched slightly at the word 'shrimp'. _That word is more likely to refer to either England or Sealand!_

He was getting irritated and was about to shout something aloud for the men to stop when he noticed a change in their behaviour. Their leader's expression changed from somehow being a grin and amused to something way darker. It reminded Iceland of someone who had a wolf underneat their skin.

It showed a desire to kill.

He frowned as he watched the man approach Anthon and walk aroun him. It was a slow walk, just like a hunter obserding it's prey.

It was the walk predicting someone's death.

Iceland watched in horror as in a single, silent and quick movement, the man lifted his machine gun and even though the gun was loud, it seemed to the teenager that everything was in complete silence. Time froze as at the same time the bullet passed through Anthon's head, Ice jumped out of his hiding spot yelling "NOOO!", his hand reaching out to Anthon.

Time stopped completely as he watched in horrow as in his last, dying moments, Anthon's eyes widened as he saw Ice running towards him. In a split second, the light faded from them as his body seemingly slowly fell on the rocks, lifeless and limp, a bloody pool slowly forming around his head.

Iceland's run was broken when he tripped on a rock as he stopped running, halfway from the rock and where Anthon was laying. He barely had time to realize that the man had died before Leyla yelled at him.

"Emil, run! Run away from he-"

Her words returned his senses back to him as he turned around, but not in time not to see how Leyla was interrupted by a precise shot to her head, silencing her immediately. Iceland broke into a run the same moment one of the men yowled for the other to shoot him down, causing a rain of bullets to follow him instants later.

Miraculously, he sped up much quicker he expected to do so, thus somehow dodging most of the bullets. However, he was unable to stop the two that got into his left arm, making him hiss in pain before continuing running further and furhter away.

He ran long enough to not notice where he was going, or how. At a point the shots stopped. He tripped many times in small holes and cracks. He was unable to stop running, his purple eyes wide with fear, shock, any sleepiness in them gone. The flashing image of both of his friends dying was printed on the inside of his eyelids, thus forcing him to keep them open.

He stopped running when he literally fell on the ground, all of his energy drained. The bullets in his left arm were painful, but not too painful as adrenaline was keeping it away. His breathing was uneven.

Iceland was laying like that for a long time, long enough for morning to come. Feeling that some of the energy had returned to him, he slowly stood up, dragging himself and the backpack over to a shade where he sat there, unable to move any further.

In a sudden flash, it came to him that the backpack he got when he was woken up was heavier than what he had felt it was the day before.

With trembling right hand, he pulled it over to him. It took him a long time to open it as his left hand hurt too much to move.

In there, he could see at least ten cans with food and more bottles with water. The biggest surprise to him was what he found at the bottom.

An old coat, used mostly for late autumn and a white scarf, carefully folded and gently hid in the backpack. And on top of that, the wooden box with the golden cross in it.

 _... They... They knew!_

Tears finally came to his eyes.

* * *

 _Time : Morning, Date : Beginning of March, 2025._

 _Dear Diary... I had my hope returned to me._

 _But the price for that was high._

* * *

 ** _Emperor : Thank you all for your patience! Because of that, today I had released BOTH chapter Three and Four (even though I planned to release Four next Sunday, so it is coming a week early!)_**

 ** _Sadly, I was unable to perform a nice check for any grammar and spelling mistakes, as I got this chapter (Four) directly copied from the Beta Version and simply added the Italic where it had to be. If there are any spelling mistakes, you can have my deepest apologies!_**

 ** _Oh, and... erm... As for the words in Norse and Icelandic... I seriously tried my best to write them corectly. If I had made any mistake and you Norwegian and Icelandic people over there get irritated... I am sorry!_**

 ** _Also... I know it might sound like slightly begging, but I do love seeing reviews on any stories, so if you like it so far, please review and if you want, you can try to guess what will happen in Chapter Five. The one that gets the closest will have a present for him/her._**

 ** _I AM trying to make this story AS REALISTIC as possible, but if you wonder how Ice survived in the ocean... It will be explained later on, I promise!_**

 ** _Thank you for your patience (again) and I hope that I can manage to post Chapter Five on time!_**


	5. Chapter 5 : The Damage

Chapter Five : The Damage

A dark forest. Trees were burned, leaving only ashes and the leftovers of ancient oaks. It looks like it was a forest. Long ago. The sky is grey, with ironical pitches of the bright blue sky visible. The sun is not visible. Dark clouds slowly move west, dead silence encovering them. Small ash-like snowflakes, colored in black, slowly fall from the sky, creating an illusion of a dark, thick mist.

It felt as if ages passed since the last time he remembered where he was. The boy simply walked on, avoiding any contact with anyone, only to slowly eat his food day by day. Sun rises, moon rises. That's the way he counted his days... as well as nights.

He slowly adapted himself into walking during the night, sleeping during daytime, as he took care to stay away from any signs of living people. He knew it wasn't the safest way to travel, but at least it saved him from any travelling bandits, as the ones in Spain.

He had no idea where he was. He just walked and walked north, hoping to somehow reach London and find his family.

His island was no more. From what he felt, of his island the only remaining thing was just a memory. It had sank deep into the ocean, leaving nothing but clouds, filled with cinder and ash behind.

As for what was left from his pople... He hoped they managed to survive the collapse of his country and remain alive. He wasn't able to be certain about that, as he didn't have that kind of connection with them.

Step by step Iceland moved forward through the ashes, crooked trees reaching at him and scratching his cheeks slightly. It wasn't that he was scared of them. It was just that after the outburst of emotions the previous month, he just felt empty again, as if he was exactly like Norway.

At that sudden thought he blinked few times, kinda stressed out before looking around alert again. The night was quiet, and he listened carefully, just in case anyone was around. But he just sighed as surely no one would be out in the night. Not at least that late.

With relief, he continued walking on, being as silent as he could possibly be. Walking on and on, Iceland simply thought about the 'mission' his brother had entrusted him with - to somehow get to London. But it wasn't that easy.

Iceland wasn't afraid of walking all these miles by foot. After all, the shared viking blood he had with his brother was the one that gave him the ability to walk on with determination of ten.

No, the problem was a bit different. A bit... deeper.

He stumbled a bit when his leg hit a tree trunk, and a second later he tripped on a branch and fell down on his chest, his face getting buried in ashes.

With an irritated look on his face he lifted his head, spitting a small cloud of dust that got into his mouth, and glared back at the branch that he tripped on.

"Ríða. Stupid trees."

With another curse towards the trees he stood up and tried to dust off the dirst off his clothes. Without much success, however.

He took a deep breath, let it out and continued walking on into the night.

During the time he had walked north he had noticed a thing that was kinda exciting. The topography of the lands had changed to mountains. Recently he had been climbing long hills on and on, without seeing the end to them. The trees more recently were pine, as well.

Iceland assummed that he was climbing the Pyrenees. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped that it was true. The weather was getting colder as well. Once he woke up when the chill wind had had him almost frozen, and even though he was used to the cold, it had forced him to take out the jacket from the backpack and put it on. It was a bit too big on him, but it was warm, and he was grateful for having it.

Recently, as well, he had started noticing ruins of houses near him. Once he saw a lone horse with long, messy brown mane, passing near what seemed like a fence around a shed.

He closed his eyes after few steps and listened.

Silence. Trees rusting, the branches hitting each other occasionaly. The wind whispering. Drip. Drip. Running water.

His eyes shot open. _Running water?_

He listened a bit more before dashing forward, the sound of the water getting louder and louder. It wasn't roaring, it just seemed like it was a small stream in the mountains. But it was better than nothing, after all.

Iceland hoped for at least a bit of water. His own recourses of water were almost at their limit, and if he didn't get water soon he'd end up dehydrated.

A hundred or more meters in the woods, running, Iceland suddenly came across an opening in the crooked woods, the sound of running water as close as it could possibly get.

Ice stopped running as he realized he was almost at the edge of a cliff. He slowly walked over to its edge, kneeled down and looked underneat.

The crack in the ground wasn't that deep as he expected, but it was wide. The cliffs were almost vertical, and it would be impossible to climb up and down them without the gear needed for that. However, even though it seemed impossible, Ice smiled.

There was a river down there, fresh water running with a quiet, and at the same time loud sound. Freshness was tangible in the air. He could feel that down there even grass could've been still alive. But he doubted that a bit, even though partly he knew that such things happened quite often.

He closed his eyes.

It wasn't that he encountered no rivers while he was walking the last month. There were streams, dry river beds, overflooded rivers, it's just that only one so far he encountered had water that was drinkable, or at least, clean and kind of fresh.

If that one also had drinkable water...

Iceland, full of energy now, stood up quickly. Guessing that the water was coming from the higher side of the hill, he headed that way, following the deep crack in the ground. With a speed much quicker than his usual walking he climbed up the slight slope, jumping over rocks and small holes in the ground.

It wasn't hard to run. It wasn't hard at all. It was even easier than he expected. It felt nice to run freely as the wind, running willingfully for the first time ever since that... chaos started. He ran, uphill the slope.

It had not been even around half an hour since he started running, but he already started encountering ruins of buildings, abandoned cars, cracked pavements.

 _I must be near a city_ , Iceland thought to himself as he gradually slowed down, looking at the houses as he soon came to a lit by the sunlight spot.

It was the first time sunlight hit his eyes for weeks. It was a raw, pure beam of light, piercing the clouds, illuminating the world around him. He narrowed his eyes, in an attempt to limit the white light from his eyes. Ice looked around.

He was in the ruins of a town, that was obviously struck by an earthquake. Large cracks criss-crossed the ground, deep at least fifteen feet. Many of the houses have been cut in halves or just completely struck down by the power of the earth. Thick layer of ashes and dust was covering the ruins.

The boy padded to the town square slowly, careful to evade the holes. The white sunlight was piercing the clouds of ashes, looking as if the heavens opened above the small city. With some looks around he started noticing more and more details.

It had obviously been a beautiful city, the buildings ornamented with talent and care. He walked over a fallen pillar from a house, noticing little figures on it, covered by soot.

It was a ghost town by now however. Not a single living person was visible, however, he knew somehow that there were many, many corpses under all the ashes and dust. He noticed a small label left of him, falled off its pillar, rusty and twisted. Ice leaned over, lifting it gently. He was barely able to make out the letters.

"An...or...a?" he murmured, reading what he was able to make out from the blue label.

Andorra! It came suddenly to his mind. He was in Andorra... somehow.

His ears picked soft, unstable footsteps somewhere from behind him. Iceland turned his head slightly to the right to see a dark figure with his perifery vision in the misty ashy clouds, surrounding the town.

With a loud dinging noise he dropped the label on the ground before rushing over to the figure.

He didn't care if it was going to attack him, tho he somehow knew that it wouldn't. It seemed to weak to do anything but walk, judging by its unstable walking.

When he came close enough he was able to make out from the torn apart dress that it was a young girl. Her brown-golden hair was messy and unclean, her clothes in the same condition. It was her gaze that struck him the most.

Her green-blue eyes were literally lifeless, a look blinded by all the death around her. They weren't focused, just staring in front of her.

"Andorra!" He called out, reaching his hand to touch her shoulder when she collapsed on the ground, her breath quiet and almost unnoticeable.

Quickly, so the girl wouldn't have to fall on the ground, he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

"Rosa! Rosa..." Emil said, lifting her head so she looked at him.

Her eyes sligtly moved, looking at his face. Her cracked lips murmured something in French that he wasn't able to make out, but he knew that she was trying to remember who he was.

"Ice...land?" she whispered in the end, remembering that teenager she sometimes saw at the EU meetings, sitting in the corner next to his brother, Norway.

"Já, it's me. Andorra, what happened?"

She looked away slightly, her dull gaze staring at the ruins.

"Earth...quake... blue fire, deaths... nobody is.. alive..." Ice was able to make out from her weak whispers, as they grew weaker and weaker. She was obviously dying slowly in his hands, but he had to try to keep her.

"Didn't France or Spain help you?" Ice murmured, holding her tightly so she wouldn't fall.

"Non... Francis didn't respond to... my calls... and...Spain is... gone." Rosa looked at him, looking as if she was about to cry but didn't have power to do that either.

He frowned. "What do you mean... Spain is gone...?"

All she did was shake her head, whispering something too quietly for him to make out.

But he could read it on her lips. It was just a single word, but a word he was afraid of.

"Dead."

Her eyes closed softly as her tense figure and face relaxed. She wasn't smiling, nor crying, but there were both happiness and sadness in her nearly emotionless expression.

Ice looked at her, anxious. He knew that she was about to disappear, but he didn't want to let her go. She didn't deserve any of this, none of them did. Well, except England, but that was a different thing.

Her eyes opened again after a bit, the ghost of her previous self visible in them. She sighed as their eyes met.

"Merci, Emil... I-...Ice..." came out as a quiet whisper as the tiny sparkle of light disappeared from her eyes. Her breathing disappeared together with her pulse.

Iceland looked at the lifeless body of a country in his hands. He wanted to cry, he wanted to rage, yet he did none of that. All he did was carefully lay down Rosa's body, closing her eyes with one of his hands. He stood up after a bit of looking at her face before he smiled just slightly, not with joy, but simple sorrow.

"Thanks, Rosa. I wish you a farewell. Thank you for being with us," he whispered in the empty air, praying with his whole soul that the girl would hear him.

After looking around the ruins a bit he managed to find a small blanket. Ignoring that it was dusty and slightly torn, he went back to Andorra's body. With a swift move he covered it with the blanket.

After that he nodded to himself. Time to go.

He looked north-west, staring at the clouds of ashes hovering in the air, blurring his vision of whatever was there.

If this whole chaos was able to kill two countries, maybe there were more victims too. He didn't want to think of the chance that his brother was one of them.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the dust that got into his mouth. The air was fresher that what he had breathed before in any case, filling him with energy.

Ice made a step towards the direction he was heading to.

France. Would he be able to find that cocky dude, he had no clue, but he had to at least try.

He made another step into the ashes.

* * *

 _Time : Late Afternoon, Date : Last Week of March, 2025_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today was not a good day. The damage is finally showing it's true colors._

 _Andorra and Spain are gone..._

 _Is everyone else alright?_

* * *

 ** _Hello, dear people of fanfiction who actually read this._**

 ** _I have not been able to get this chapter up because of technical issues. And I'm sorry it's two times shorter than what I originally intended to write... Not enough words, I guess._**

 ** _I hope I manage to get chapter six up by next Sunday, and thank you for reading my crappy fanfic._**

 ** _Sincerely, Emperor._**


	6. Chapter 6 : Water

Chapter Six : Water

Watching the world sink and drown in the endless ashy fields, day after day, Iceland just wanted to gag. It was all this destruction, all that dust and soot that just made him sick of it all. Oh, how much he wished that it was all just a single, small nightmare in his mind as he was peacefully sleeping in his bed.

But no. This was too real to be any type of dream.

 _Ught_ , he thought, as his foot yet again stumbled onto something. He cleaned his shoe off whatever he had stumbled on, and took a fast look around.

The ruins of human activity were seen more often as of recently, giving him the thought of a big city ahead.

Maybe he was getting closer. Maybe, but there was a chance.

 _Maybe..._

This lone "maybe" was the one word that powered his will to move forward, to ignore all that supressing depression of the dullness and death around his, empty now, world. Just like before, that little "maybe" which could turn worlds upside down and clash thousands of kingdoms at once, was now holding him together, keeping madness away from his mind.

Yet, why was he holding onto that maybe, even he didn't know. Or maybe he knew. Did he know actually?

He wasn't sure if he knew, and that "maybe" was forcing him to ask himself and seek out the answers. He wanted to know why, he wanted know how, when, what and any other question possible to be asked. He wanted to know the reasons for all this.

Of course, being as he was in the current situation, he had only the option to ask himself. He wasn't able to connect to anybody else, so he had to seek out answers deep within himself, to question his very existence in order to barely scratch the surface of the answer.

Nor that he was able to get any closer to the truth, no, not at all.

Every answer he came up to wasn't the one he needed, and holding onto that one single "maybe" was his only guidance to the true answers of his questions.

And yet, any answer was a valuable thing.

After yet another sigh, Emil scratched his ear. One of the biggest questions bothering him the most was how in the world did he flow all the way to Spain from Øresund. He was just unable to come up with an answer, as anything he came up with was leading to his death.

But he wasn't dead.

Shifting back to reality, he uttered a curse as he went bavk to moving.

The topography of the land was no longer mountains, it was more like hills and plains, as well as the dead beds of streams.

It had taken him so many days to get out of the mountains. He was utterly lost, but at the same time he did not care as long ad he had a slight idea where he was.

And this time for sure, he knew it, he was in France. Somewhere god only knew, but he was certain he was somewhere in France.

The weather was still cold and rainy. The rain wasn't acid but was not of clear water. The raindrops were muddily grey, with tints of yellow and red here and there. But in his grey cinder world yellow and red were colors he found warming.

He enjoyed watching the colors but did not enjoy getting wet. And by the looks of it it was going to rain soon. Again.

Iceland looked around for a shelter from the rain.

In the mountains he was lucky to be able to be under the trees, but in these plains the only option was to get to the ruins of a town as soon as possible and get under whatever was left of someone's roof.

Yet, even if he found shelter in the ruins, there was a chance he might come across somebody. A somebody he had no intention of meeting.

Of course, all these possibilities were under yet another "maybe".

Ignoring the fact that anything was possible to happen, Ice decided to move forward. He needed a place to hide. If his clothes were to get wet, the low temperature around would cause him to freeze, and freezing to death (or simply getting sick) was the last damned thing he wanted to happen.

After one last look at the darkening grey full of clouds sky he started walking towards his destination.

Avoiding any signs of human contact and any signs of towns, he had needed to take a rather curvy route. It was going to take him longer to get to London but he didn't want to risk.

Oh, not at all.

Take as little risks as possible.

He didn't want to disappear just like Andorra or Spain. He didn't want to. He wanted to see his brother. It was a must he promised himself on the way.

And it was a promise he was definately going to fufill.

Soon he reached a dark, twirly road. It wasn't a highway or anything, but more like a road between little villages.

Ice stopped to think for a bit. Was it worth it going on the road or not? Did he want to take the risk to be spotted by someone who might not have the best intentions towards him?

He clenched his fist a little, debating with himself. He had to list all circimstances.

His food was very low, and his water would be enough for maybe another one or two days. He had last filled his bottles at a clean stream around two weeks after he left Andorra, and since then not a single clean stream was seen.

If there were people, food and water would also be there. Or at least canned food, who'd go on a hunt or have a working refrigirator in this cinder chaos!

 _Tsk,_ he thought. _My highest bet would be the village._

Highest chance of encountering people, too.

Chenching his teeth in his silent battle, he went on walking on the road, avoiding any big holes or fallen, burned trees.

It was all silent, the muffled by the dust sounds of his steps being the only.

Iceland's world had been just grey and grey and grey lately. Daytime was grey, nighttime was... well, also grey. The grey ashes and darker soot were covering everything, and the sky was grey too. The sunlight he had seen here and there was also a sickening grey-ish color.

Colorless world.

It seemed as if the ash had sucked all colors out of the world, leaving only those sickening shades of grey.

Suddenly Iceland snorted, a quiet, small chuckle in his throat.

He remembered a book that had been a huge sensation ten or something years back, a book he refused to read (and read it secretly, in the end).

"Fifty Shades of Grey".

Oh my, Iceland chuckled a bit more, as the name ironically would have been the perfect definition of his world right now - fifty shades of grey.

Not that the content of the book would fit. Oh, not at all.

He giggled a bit before bursting into a quiet at first, but after that louder, laugh.

It was so ridiculous that it was actually funny.

He kept on laughing, his laugh echoing around the empty plains. In the midst of the silence, his laugh seemed insanely loud.

Iceland's laugh stopped just as quickly as it came.

It was the laugh of a madman, the realization hit him.

He coughed a bit, his throat was a bit sore from the laughter. He hadn't spoken in weeks, and simply the laugh had made his vocal cords hurt.

However the laugh was also a shade refreshing. He had shaken off some of the tension off his shoulders, even if it was just a little bit. It felt a bit better to feel better, after all.

His gaze looked around quickly in case someone had heard his laugh or seen him. It was crazy to laugh in such a dead world, an act proving that someone was either ridiculously brave or going insane. Iceland was neither of those and wasn't in the mood to be either of them, so he ignored that thought and concentrated on the road in front of him.

It was long, gently swirling between the fallen trees and the small hills of the plains. It was a hard road, untouched by the heavy rain and not muddy.

The thought of the rain alarmed his mind about the fact that he needed to find a place to shelter. Ice put his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he resumed his walking with quiet, fast and long steps. He had gotten used to walking in such way, spending nearly two months in simply walking and climbing and god knows what else.

The road seemed endless as he just kept on walking and walking, without taking a minute to stop or anything. His body was used to the fast pace, and he didn't tire as easily as he did before. He could endure such pace for days, if he had to. The strain was not much.

He was sure that soon he would come up some kind of a village. He knew it, because every road had to lead to somewhere. Always. Emil had never seen a road that lead to nowhere.

His fast pace soon got even faster as he was almost running, feeling the storm coming. He knew that he had no more than ten or fifteen minutes to get to a shelter before he gets all soaked up in the grey rain.

In the distance, the blurry outlines of ruins started to appear as he got closer.

They weren't that far way, and it seemed that he might be able to make it if he ran fast.

Ahh, yet another of those "might" and "maybe"'s!

But he had to risk, in any case that was his best option.

He ran. His steps made a muffled sound at the touch with the road, the nearly empty contents of his backpack dinging quietly with each step.

After a kilometer or so his breath started going raspy. His lungs weren't used to running, and his breaths were getting heavy.

Soon after that his legs slowly started hurting, but that was a pain he could handle with more ease. He took some deep breaths as he sped up, not wanting to lose a single valuable second. He had to get to some kind of a shelter.

The village came closer. Not after many minutes he was running on the central street, looking around. He slowed down a bit but was still running, in a way.

The houses weren't in the best condition, most were in complete ruins, some were halfway standing but had very obnoxious fire and explosion marks on them. Iceland didn't want to risk getting in there, afraid of what he might find in there.

The sky was quickly turning to a dark shade of grey. At least he was in the village now, and as far as he could see, there were no people around. Of course he could never know for sure, not until he checked.

His trotting soon went to simply walking as he noticed a small house, slightly tilted to the side, but still standing and with little marks of the disaster on it. Well, except the dust.

The damned soot was everywhere.

He looked around quickly, just to check if everything was quiet, before walking over to the house. Ice's gaze was looking for a hole as he didn't want to open the door in case the building fell over.

Walking around the house he noticed that it was spared of much damage, most windows standing together, and the bricks were without cracks.

It was a one story house, with a basement too, if he wasn't mistaken.

Seeing that there were no other entrances, Ice sighed, heading back to the front door.

It was then when the first muddy raindrops fell. They were just a few and fell seconds apart from each other, but Emil was able to feel that in less than a minute the rain would be absolute.

So he had to act quickly. His hand, firm and strong, grabbed the half-broken handle of the door and pressed it softly, and at the same time violently. A loud breaking sound was heard as a crack went up the wood the door was made of.

Iceland cursed under his teeth. He had to hurry.

Emil could feel that the door was unlocked, but something heavy was blocking its way. After yet another curse he decided to kick it open.

The rain was quickening ad he got ready.

With a swift, well trained movement he hit the door with his leg, pushing a hole right through the solid wood, smashing the door open in instants. Iceland freed his leg quickly and entered the house, closing the door behind him.

It might have been with a big hole in it but it didn't matter as it protected him from the heavy rain behind him that was just about to get started.

Loud, large grey raindrops were storming outside, but the house's roof didn't let any in. That was a little relief.

Emil's breaths were a bit heavy as he slowly calmed down. That door had proven to be quite difficult to kick down. He looked around to what might have blocked it.

After seeing what it was, Iceland snorted.

A heavy, still shining slightly despite all the dust, aluminium refrigerator.

His foot had made a dent in the side of the refrigerator, and it had pushed it all the way to the back wall.

Iceland snorted once more at the pure irony of the situation before deciding to look around if some food or drinks have been left inside.

Walking around the house he noticed some things that were standing out. The dust was little, and there were small water pools near some the corners. The plates and cups were with less dust than it would be assumed they'd be, and there were quite a few empty beer bottles around.

Iceland sighed after walking around the whole house, noting that the bedroom was the one with two broken windows. He had looked around it, not finding anything useful before he closed the door to it, just in case.

Ice ended up finding a can of baked beans, and a bottle of coca cola that was, surprisingly, still in the refrigirator. On the other side, after looking around the machine, and finding nothing else, he pushed it back to the door, blocking it so nobody and nothing could enter.  
In the meantime the rain was pouring outside.

Ice went to the dirty dining table in the middle of the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. It creaked loudly but didn't break. That was a relief.

He took out a knife, and a small, half full bottle of water from his backpack before setting aside on the table. The dusty bottle of cola was something he wanted to keep for those nights he had to walk on, ignoring all tiredness. So he put it aside, near the backpack.

Opening the can of beans Emil wondered if there was a way to warm it, so it tasted better. But it would make no difference, any type of food would do the same to him. It would just satisfy his hunder for a day, and do nothing more.

The beans taste was nothing special, they tasted like normal beans. Stale normal beans.

But it was something, and he had to find more food. Sooner the better, and it would be to his advantage.

After finishing the beans he put the can carefully aside, and opened his bottle, drinking around half of the water in there.

His throat was a bit sore, and the water helped soften and muffle the slight pain.

After closing and putting the water bottle aside, Emil sighed. Tiredness was creeping into his mind, but instead of giving in to it he simply closed his eyes, crossed his arms and started thinking.

He was nearly out of food. Let alone the little water he had left. Nations like him can survive without food for a longer than humans time, but it would not be pleasant at all. The endless craving of hunger would eat them from the inside and in the end the country would wither away slowly. They couldn't live without water, however.

Countries needed water just as any being on earth. In a week or even less it was possible for any nation to fall into a coma, and unless helped... If their condition was bad enough they could even die... permanently.

But such cases were extremely rare, and Iceland had only heard of one single country from the old times which died of dehydration. One or two thousand years ago, if his memory wasn't lying.

That was the reason all nations were so wary of their foods and drinks. Well, if America liked his cheeseburgers and even though that type of food wasn't the... healthiest, it was something. Fat and unhealthy, but for some reason it didn't seem to affect him. At least the effects came to be around after two hundred years.

With another loud, tired sigh, Iceland laid his head on his hands on the table, unsure if he even wanted to continue this... quest thingy.

It was a horror story, but it wasn't a horror story from those zombie or apocalypse movies. This horror story was a story of gore and the details were grey and bloody. It was a horror story where nobody was spared, and nobody had any privileges over the others so he could be spared.

The blue fire did not discriminate, it was the blade of something he did not understand that cut everything in its path.

It wasn't that he was spared by a miracle or something, Iceland thought and closed his eyes. He was too scared to do anything.

But maybe his fear had saved him.

...

 _A muffled sound... Rain? No, more like drops of water. Cold... it's cold. Freezing... wet. It's wet too. Yes... wet. Freezingly wet. Yes... its too wet. Soaked... in what? Clothes?... Yes, think so. Soaked with water fabrics._

 _What else... Light. Yes, there is light... Dim. So grey. Orange and red... Think so?... Yes... Else?_

 _Else? Dunno... Dead... Yes. Feels so dead... Black. Death... And chocolate._

 _Yes... Chocolate scent. Memory?... or reality?... Most likely memory...Yes. Memory._

 _Where is memory... Searching, no result... No. No connection... To where?_

 _What here?... No, doesn't matter... Actually. Does matter... What now... Leave._

 _Voice. Quiet... whisper?... No. Lullaby... Free lullaby. Notes... sounds. Move... Sleep._

 _But lullaby... Sleep. Yes. It's sleep... Pure melody. Like. Yes... Like._

 _"... happened to him?"_

 _Words... Yes, talk. Words. They are good... Yes. Calm._

 _"He is in near death state... Drowning must have been painful."_

 _Familiar. Yes. Familiar voice... Who?... Lullaby stop._

 _"Is he gonna be alright? Don't tell me you will leave him like this."_

 _Worry. Sadness. Yes... Feel emotions... But no matter._

 _"Of course not! But... We can't keep him around us. Åegiøs will chase him here too."_

 _Frustration... Familiar._

 _"Then what will you do? Send him back to Reykjavik? That town is underwater!"_

 _Anger... Confusion... Emotions familiar... Reykjavik... Yes, too familiar... where?_

 _"No, I will send him south. Like..." Papers... rustling? "I hope Spain isn't too far."_

 _Spain... Too far? Don't understand... meaning?_

 _"Can't you do this yourself, he is going to die!"_

 _Anger... Fury, rage... Scary._

 _"He has a chance, whereas it's too late for me. He is the only one with the sight."_

 _"You... You are cruel! Doing this to your own brother!"_

 _Brother... warm, cold... Who? Brother... someone? Who? Where?... Tell..._

 _"That is the only way."_

 _Cold, calm... feeling frustration... Yes... like a mask._

 _"Don't do this! He will forever hate you, Lukas!"_

 _Lukas!... Name... Yes. Brother... Big brother. What?_

 _Dark... More dark... Silence, too late... Drifting outside... Too late..._

 _..._

 _First heartbeat in forever._

* * *

 _Time : Night, Date : Somewhere in mid-April._

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today I started wondering, am I dead or alive? And what is going on?_

 _And... who is "_ _Åegiøs"?_

* * *

 ** _Nnnnghhhttt. [groans of a writer without words]_**

 ** _That's all for now._**

 ** _Sincerely, Emperor._**


End file.
